


Trilogy

by lil_1337



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-31
Updated: 2007-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://tindogs-fic.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://tindogs-fic.livejournal.com/"></a><b>tindogs_fic</b> 2007 The Doctor Who Minor Characters Ficathon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trilogy

**Author's Note:**

> Requester: [](http://lonesomeoctober.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lonesomeoctober.livejournal.com/)**lonesomeoctober**  
>  Request: Request 1: _Mickey/Ricky/Jake. Blame[](http://just-marzipan.livejournal.com/profile)_[ **just_marzipan**](http://just-marzipan.livejournal.com/) for encouraging me! Ten MILLION THRILLION points if you can write this and make it work.  
> 

_Hands. Touching him. Everywhere. Ghosting over his back, sliding down to cup and caress his ass. Resting on the muscles of his outer thighs then moving up to stroke his shoulders and run gentle fingers into his hair. It was like riding a high of sensation so intense that his mind couldn't process it all. The heat that was coiled in his groin began to spread, taking with it delicious warmth and a tingling sensation that settled in his fingers and toes, then moved inward as the blood pooled in his groin. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He needed release like oxygen, his very existence hanging in the balance. Even as the thought pierced his brain two sets of hands zeroed in on his groin, stroking his cock and teasing his ass until he could take it no more. Head thrown back and hips moving of their own accord he came, screaming his pleasure out to the world._

Jake woke with a start, shivering as the aftershocks danced down his nerve endings leaving them raw and over stimulated. Moaning softly at the feel of the bed sheet as it brushed against the now hypersensitive head of his cock, he rolled onto his side, not at all surprised when his hip made contact with something warm and sticky.

"Bloody hell!" He swore, crawling out of bed to stumble into the bathroom. This was the third wet dream he'd had in as many days. If it kept up he'd either need to get plastic sheets or start sleeping in the shower. He shivered again, this time from the cold as the air hit his sweaty skin chilling it and reminding him why he'd left the warmth of his bed.

Clean up was quick; nothing a damp washcloth couldn't take care of. He wandered back into the bedroom and surveyed the floor. A pile near the door gave up a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that had the laundry in its near future, but was still wearable. He knew from experience sleep would not be returning soon if at all so didn't even bother to try; heading instead for the small kitchen at the front of the apartment.

Putting on the kettle, Jake got down a mug, planning to make some tea. In the end it was coffee, accented with a healthy dose of scotch, that filled his cup. He carried the mug carefully into small living room and settled down on the slightly battered couch that screamed bachelor quarters. The heat from the coffee and artificial warmth of the alcohol combined to help take the edge off the chill that seemed have followed on the heels of the short burst of afterglow. Sipping his drink, Jake leaned back and closed his eyes.

It was probably normal to dream about your dead lover. Maybe even to have incredibly erotic dreams about him. Jake could understand and accept that part of it. After all he and Ricky had been together for a time and, while they were not at the declarations of undying love stage, the relationship had been good. Time alone together had been limited due to sharing quarters with Mrs. Moore and the battle against the cybermen, but still those stolen moments had been some of the best of his life.

He swallowed hard, pushing down the sadness and loss that always came along with thinking about Ricky. It had been easier when he was fighting. There is nothing like a righteous cause to keep the mind focused on something besides grief. Then one day the cybermen were gone; no one knew where, just that they had vanished. Jake woke up to find himself a soldier without a war to fight and forced to acknowledge that he was the last of the preachers, the only one to survive to see that they had made a difference.

A week after his return to London the dreams had started. The first ones had been innocent enough, more memories than something conjured up by his subconscious. There had been comfort as well as pain in them. Jake relished the opportunity to hang onto a little of what he'd lost.

_Strong arms wrapped around his waist as he stood watching the computer screen over Mrs. Moore's shoulder. Leaning back into the warmth of the body behind him, he smiled. A slight tilt of his head invited a kiss on the lips and then another at the base of his jaw. Familiar hands rested lightly on his hips holding him firmly but with a tenderness that Ricky rarely let anyone but his fellow conspirators see. Sighing happily, Jake let himself relax and give into the momentary sense that all was as it should be._

Those dreams had lasted for months, but they'd not appeared with the regularity of the more recent ones. Over time they progressed, almost as if he was being seduced. Pieces of reality were merged with things that had never happened. Remembered kisses had given way to touching and more.

_He was on his knees. Ricky liked it when Jake did that and he liked to make Ricky feel good. Jake could taste Ricky's skin on his lips and tongue, feel the soft weight of his balls resting in Jake's hand, the skin tightening and tickling his palm. He could feel the moan as it echoed down Ricky's body. Fingers tightened in his hair, tugging him up and away. A kiss, hard and demanding, then he turned, hands braced on the wall, waiting to be taken._

That time Jake had woken up with tears on his face and his cock so hard it was painful. He could feel the blood pumping with each racing heartbeat. It hadn't taken much to bring him to orgasm. A few touches and his body's need overrode the ache in his heart.

While that was certainly not the last time he dreamed of Ricky, he was never alone after that. What started as a sense of another presence had these last few days become undeniably clear. A revelation Jake was not sure what to do about.

_He knew that touch. Familiar and confident in its ability to bring him pleasure. Hands roamed his body paying special attention to the sensitive area on the tips of his nipples and that spot on at the base of his neck. The one that made him melt into a demanding puddle of need. There were other touches too, but these were much softer and more hesitant, exploring him as if making a mental map of his skin. The calluses were different than the ones on Ricky's hands, but still indicative of a man who worked for a living. He'd known without looking that this was Mickey. Known and rejoiced in the knowledge._

Sighing, Jake finished his coffee and set the cup down on the table in front of him. He liked Mickey. A lot. But he'd loved Ricky. In fact, he had been the first and only love of Jake's young life. He could understand if one was morphing into the other. On some weird subconscious level that would make sense, but this? It was just unsettling as hell.

Jake shook his head. Somewhere off in the distance thunder rumbled and for a moment he was on the alert, waiting for a warning siren that would not come. With that realization came the memories. Restless nights spent trying to catch a few hours of sleep in the back of the van. The way that more than once he'd woken up with his body curled around Mickey, arm over his waist. The first time it had happened Mickey had freaked, reminding him pointedly that he was all about the girls. Jake had rolled his eyes and told Mickey if he stayed on his side of the vehicle it wouldn't be a problem.

By the time the cybermen had disappeared they had grown used to each other. Both had seen enough carnage that taking comfort in the presence of another human being was something to be sought out, not rejected. They'd even kissed once or twice, a natural extension of the hugs and joy that accompanied victory. Mickey never showed any inclination to move beyond that and Jake was not going to push him and disrupt the friendship they had built. The desire was there, but Jake was too unsure of his own heart to even consider it. Ricky and Mickey were definitely two different people and yet there were things about them that were the same. Were the feelings that were beginning to grow more strongly for Mickey genuine or Jake's need to hold onto his late boyfriend?

The dreams weren't helping a damn bit either. It was unsettling and incredibly arousing at the same time. There was no doubt his subconscious was trying to get a message through to him; unfortunately it was sending it via the wrong head.

_He straddled Ricky's lap, facing away from him. Pale legs draped over dark ones, a study in shades of gray. Ricky's hands on his hips, fingers pressing into Jake's skin, helped him move up and down in counterpoint to Ricky's shallow thrusts. In front of him Mickey crouched watching, his hand on his cock as Jake moaned, fingers opening and closing with nothing to close on but empty air._

Then there was hair underneath them and hot moisture surrounding his dick. He was riding Ricky, each thrust sending him deeper into Mickey's willing mouth. He moaned, arching up so Mickey's lips slid down his shaft. Tentative tongue flicks teased the vein on the underside and Jake could feel himself on the brink of orgasm.

He was lifted up off Ricky and the world shifted. Jake was on his knees, deep inside Mickey while Ricky entered him. Then they were moving in a slow rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through Jake. Forward into Mickey then back onto Ricky, it was almost maddening.

For the second time Jake jerked awake. Disoriented and groggy he searched the room, looking for what had woken him. The sound of a soft knock on the door took a moment to register in his brain, identifying itself as the culprit. He palmed himself and took a couple of deep breaths, willing himself not to think about the visuals that hung in the air in front of him.

Opening the door, he shivered at the rush of cold air; thankful for the effect it would have on his state of arousal. The sight of Mickey, hands shoved deep in his pockets, caught him by surprise so that it took him a moment to realize he was standing in the doorway, speechless. An embarrassed grin on his face, Jake stepped back in silent invitation to enter.

"Sorry if I woke you." Mickey shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking past Jake into the apartment. "I saw your light."

"No problem." Jake paused, the anxious look on Mickey's face setting off alarm bells. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I mean I think so." Mickey moved into the front room, waiting until Jake had closed the door and turned to face him. "I've been having some really weird dreams lately."

"Oh?" Attempting to lighten the mood, Jake grinned. "About me?"

Shifting slightly Mickey nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah. You and Ricky."

Jake could feel his throat constricting and the tickle of a bead of sweat working its way down his spine. He swallowed hard and forced himself to smile in ghostly imitation of his usual smirk. "I'll make tea."

Mickey grinned, seeming to relax a little. "Yeah, that'd be good. Tea fixes everything."

Chuckling, Jake shook his head. "It’s a good place to start."


End file.
